Empathy
by Begriffsschrift
Summary: Generally, empathy is inappropriate between mortal enemies. Too bad Ichigo hasn't quite caught on yet. //Rating is TBD, starting at T.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Oh lord... I haven't written for Bleach in a long time. This, yeah... This is an intro to a new fic that I probably won't finish. It's sort of gen-ish right now.

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**[Chapter I: Doubt]**

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"What the _fuck_ were you thinking?"

Renji. The tone was accusatory, worried. While the words themselves weren't as clear—his mind as blurred as it was with blood loss—from the sound alone, he could get the gist of the message.

And hell, he'd like to know, too.

"—was nothing. S'fine." His reassurance failed its purpose, tumbling out in a sort of choked cough. He held the wound on his side tighter.

"No, really, Ichigo—what _were_ you thinking? Were you trying t'get yourself killed?"

He probably should have said 'no.'

But with the expression Grimmjow had been wearing crowding his head and the dark spots crowding his vision, the only thing he could say before he passed out was—

"I don't know."

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He woke in Urahara Shôten around two days later. He shuffled to the main room, unsure whether it was his injuries or the air of reproachful concern that was making it difficult to breathe.

"Ah, so our dear Kurosaki-san has joined us once again~!" Urahara singsonged with a flippant, overindulgent wave of his fan. But he must've noticed it too, how his affect had soured in the tense atmosphere, because the humor quickly ebbed from his eyes and his mouth settled into a frown. There was always something unsettling about Urahara's moments of seriousness—something that demanded reverence and attention. And it occurred to Ichigo not for the first time that the man might actually switch demeanors for that very effect.

"According to Abarai-san, when the Espada was coming in for an attack, you lowered your weapon." The shopkeeper spoke evenly. It wasn't antagonistic, but Ichigo couldn't help but avert his eyes in shame.

"I'm not going to say 'You know better,' because I don't think it would be very useful right now. But Kurosaki-san—have you been… feeling alright lately?"

"What d'you mean?"

He was confused until he saw it in their faces. Rukia, Renji, Urahara—behind the worry, the admonition, he caught a glimpse of _pity_ and it mortified him. He then understood the implications of the question.

He let out a nervous laugh and it made his voice shake. "…C'mon. Guys… You know I'd never—"

Renji cut him off harshly. "Yeah, y'know, that's what I thought, but I _know_ what that looked like. It looked like you were tryin' to off—"

"Oh, _please_," he snapped, "do you people really think I'm that weak?"

Rukia tried to rationalize. "No! But Ichigo—you're just fifteen, and there's a lot on your shoulders—"

"Don't_ patronize_ me." It came out sharper than he had intended—he recoiled inwardly a bit at that—but it didn't stop his momentum.

He would regret it the second it came out of his mouth.

"And since when has my age ever mattered when I'm sent on errands like this?"

It was a low blow. It was unnecessary, cruel. He knew it and wanted nothing but to rewind the moment and _shut himself up_. But he couldn't. He could only swallow as he looked at what he had done.

Renji was gaping, affronted; Rukia looked hurt and Urahara guilty, eyes shrouded entirely by his hat. The tension had mounted impossibly, and Ichigo looked at his feet, contrite.

Or at least to an extent. He'd never admit it (even to himself), but a small part of him secretly felt pleased, having retaliated at their apparent lack of faith—even if it didn't serve his original point.

Not unexpectedly, Urahara was the first to recover.

"We've… _digressed_ a little. Intentions aside, the pressing matter is that you almost died, Kurosaki-san. Grimmjow's zanpakutou had sliced through a great deal of your vital organs. Were you conscious when he left?"

Ichigo tried to rein it in when his shoulders sagged in relief—Urahara was somewhat changing the subject, alleviating some of the tension. But he could tell by the look on his face that the man's suspicions were far from gone. He had a feeling that he wouldn't be getting much privacy for the next few weeks.

"…Yeah, I was."

He imagined that Urahara's eyebrows had risen. "That's interesting. Why didn't he make sure he finished you off?"

"Well, he… I think he wants to fight me again, because he didn't think I was taking it seriously or something."

The thought dead-ended a little, and in the renewed quiet, Ichigo realized how divorced Renji and Rukia were from the conversation. It was uncomfortable.

The entire situation was uncomfortable.

"…How long've I been out?"

"It's Thursday morning." Renji's voice was biting.

"Oh."

"…"

In a sad attempt at conciliation, he said, "I was… I was just tired, y'know?"

Too bad he didn't believe it any more than they did. He still didn't quite know why he did something so _stupid_—only that the incident had impressed on him somehow—and he certainly wasn't ready to inform them about it.

"I think I'm gonna head home."

Rukia was incredulous. "What? You just had almost _mortal _wounds before they—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I promise not to 'do something stupid' and make them open." He gave a backward wave.

Despite herself, she quirked a small smile as he walked out of the shop.

"Fool."

**[chapter end]**

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**A/N:** Uh... Anyone care to tell me when exactly this could happen in canon? I know I should know—I'm the writer and all. But I really,_ really_ suck at tracking plot. I'm not built for it—I'm built for aesthetics, and this is HAAARD.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Ho'y shit—I updated this thing. A precedent! I updated something (allegedly) multi-chaptered!

I'm frickin' proud, guys.

Oh, and sorry if there are any typos/conventional errors. I'm an OCD beta for others, but... I cannot beta _myself,_ because by the time I finish writing, I'm so jaded by my own work that I wouldn't be able to distinguish between something like "the lovechild" and "hat brainchild" (this has happened), let alone make a proper correction.

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**[Chapter II: Be Kind To Yourself]**

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"_Do ya have a death wish, Shinigami?"_

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'Why is everyone saying that?'

First _Grimmjow,_ for fuck's sake, then his inner hollow. Now all of his friends, made ware by Renji's _flapping trap_, were virtually breathing down his neck—Urahara might be able to pull off subtle surveillance, but they sure as hell couldn't. Playing a dartboard for all their eyes and focusing in class was a damn near impossible task. He _almost_ wanted a hoard of low-level hollows to start attacking the town so he could have a decent excuse to get out of there. But then again, they probably wouldn't even trust him to handle something like that.

It made him want to pull out his hair. He didn't need a suicide watch, dammit!

He just wanted to know the exact reason he freaking _shut down_ when he was being attacked. It didn't even have to do with his hollow. He just made eye contact with Grimmjow—it wasn't as if that had been a first time thing; people tended to _do_ that in fights*—and his mind kind of… checked out. That had _never_ happened before. It had been like really intense déjà vu, but he wasn't quite sure of what.

He couldn't put his finger on it.

So when they kept asking him "why" (it was like they just couldn't _help_ themselves; what happened to the mutual respect?), he could only say, "I can't really explain it."

There wasn't really a sufficient lie, and if he tried, he'd probably receive the "skeptical eyebrow" from Ishida, which just _begged_ for a punch in the face.

This sucked. He was a _doer_, not one to mull over things (well, unless he was brooding). But leashed with their ridiculous worry in this ridiculous situation, it seemed like one of the only things he could do. It was putting him in a bad mood.

'Screw it.'

The moment his badge started to sound—on the fence between being a beacon from god and being a summons to hell—he popped Kon in and excused himself out the window, despite knowing he'd be trailed by the Babysitter-Trio.

He was able to take down the Hollow—an antelope-like thing—fairly easily, but not without a little grief from his recent injuries. A sluggish movement here, a half-concealed wince there. Rotational movement didn't do wonders for a healing side-wound, and the thing had been especially agile that day—_of all days_, with _them_ lined up behind him like a freaking judge panel.

Christ, they'd probably pin any hiccup in his performance on whatever head-issue they thought he had.

Not even bothering to turn around and deal with apprehension—he almost _smell_ them _concerning_ at him—he started to walk back to the school, resolute to ignore them. Which—

—became increasingly harder as they kept only a few paces behind him, even as he started moving faster.

That was it. This needed to be dealt with. Pivoting abruptly (very close to collision), he started.

"What the _hell_ is your problem?"

"…"

"Kurosaki, we're just worried." Oh, and there's the 'w' word.

"Just—_STOP_. Stop it." It would occur to him afterward that that was an unfeasible order. "You _really_ don't need to."

"But Abarai-kun said—"

Really? Inoue, too?

He restricted his tantrum to a flagrant groan—Inoue looked a little hurt at that, taken aback. He then felt the urge to slap himself.

"_Forget_ whatever Renji said. He doesn't know what he's talking about." He scrubbed at his face and they didn't know what to say. "Did Urahara put you guys up to this shit or something? You were freaking tailing me."

"No, he didn't."

"Don't _lie_."

"I swear—"

"Then why? Why are you following me?" There was a pause, and he let out an uncharacteristically passive sigh.

"Why can't you just trust me?"

…That came out more pleading than he had planned. He swallowed back a small twitch of sudden self-consciousness and looked at them expectantly. He didn't know what they wanted to see, what would allay their worries. They started to grow pensive, taciturn; the quiet stretched a few seconds too long. He hated it.

"Oi—"

"We do trust you."

Surprisingly enough, it was Chad who spoke.

"You have a strong will to protect others."

Good ol' Chad. Getting his back, like old times.

"But what about yourself?"

Oh.

Crap—he had a lot of points against himself, there. What can a person with a martyr complex say to that? He scrabbled for an appropriate response.

"…I take care of that because I hate to lose." He tried to shoot off one of his wolfish grins to make his off-the-cuff answer seem a little more than half-baked, but it didn't seem to be working—if anything, it felt out of place. They still wore the same faces.

"Then why?"

Why, huh. Why didn't he fight back? Why did he almost die?

"…Listen—I don't _know_. I don't know why, but I DON'T have a death wish, okay? So just stop that—_whatever_ it is you're doing. I can take care of myself!"

Ichigo couldn't believe he was having this conversation. Just the idea of it was making him flush.

"I don't think you or any of us can promise that."

He clearly wasn't getting anywhere with this, so he settled for mumbling under his breath.

"…Fuck you, Ishida."

The rest of the walk back was silent.

[tbc]

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Additional notes (and some unnecessary things, but...):

*Especially sword fights. _'Seigan'_ is when you aim the tip of the sword at the eyes—not necessarily to cut there (you can be several yards away), but it forms a sort of... centerline or reference point. It kind of helps when parrying; on the centerline, it's a little easier to block with the flat of the blade, so as to not wreck the cutting edge... Or at least, that's my opinion; I practice a little kenjutsu and taijutsu.

Oh—ironic thing: it actually sort of hurt to type this particular note, because one of my training partners had... not-so-wonderfully executed _kotegaeshi_ on me, and instead of locking my wrist for a throw, just twisted it unnaturally (and very far). Owowow... It didn't impair my sense of gravity like it was supposed to, but _Jchrist_ it hurt! I "fell" anyway to **make it STOP. **(Use form._ Form._)

...I think the term 'uke' might come from the roles of _'uke'_ and _'tori'_ in martial arts. The _uke_ delivers the attack, and uh... _takes it_ when the _tori_ turns the attack against them. This is a totally uneducated guess, though. Actually, don't listen to a word I say, because I don't know what the hell I'm talking about, and I don't know how to be politically correct.

**_AMARI [EMDASH] TTE YATSU TSUKATTE SU'IMASENg. SHIKATA NEE NO DA!_ **

...

BTdubs, this story, I think, is going to be gen. ...Well, there might end up being a pairing—regardless of het, yaoi, and yuri—but IF and ONLY IF it doesn't ruin the integrity of the story. Relationships happen when they happen, and I more or less have nothing to do with it. I'm just, uh... _adultsitting_ Kubo's characters for the time being. Whether they have rampant sex, kill each other, or brood in their separate corners is _not_ something I can control.

I'm just the poor sap writing about it.


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